Forbidden Feelings
by Dan Sickles
Summary: Charity Bentham is a typical Beta Minus with a huge crush on her Alpha Plus boss. But then she gets in trouble and is sent away to a very strange place! This is set in the universe of Brave New World but with all original characters. Please comment nicely!
1. Chapter 1

FORBIDDEN FEELINGS

 _Charity Bentham is a typical Beta Minus with a huge crush on her boss. But then she gets in trouble and is sent to a very strange place. This is my first fan fiction set in the BRAVE NEW WORLD universe. Please comment nicely!_

Charity Bentham was certain her boss was the most gorgeous Alpha Plus male she had ever seen. His name was Harry Voltaire and he was tall and dark and devastatingly attractive. He'd had her during his first week on the job, of course. For Harry it had been a pleasant introduction and nothing more. But for the shapely little redhead with the wide green eyes and lightly freckled snub nose, it had only whetted her appetite for more.

"Charity my love, would you care to run these magnetic files over to the Assistant Director?"

"Of course, Harry!" Charity was breathless just from standing next to her dark-haired boss. When she looked up into the blue of his eyes it was like staring into a mountain lake. "I'm going to the Feelies tonight," she confided eagerly. "There's a new story about a Beta Plus girl who has three men in one night. And they're all Alphas! Have you seen it yet?"

Harry grinned. "No, I haven't. But there's nothing better than a Beta. Off you go now, Charity love."

Charity felt that she was entitled to have her boss again, but he just couldn't seem to take the hint! She wished he wouldn't keep sending her on errands out of the office. It was almost like being sent into exile on some island. On top of that the Assistant Director was a chilly blonde Alpha Plus female who gave herself the airs of a World Controller.

"Miss Bentham, I see you've damaged this disk of magnetic data," said the Assistant Director sternly. Her name was Edith Beddington, but Charity secretly called her Batty Beddington.

"I didn't mean to!" Charity had only been checking her reflection in the polished metal doors of the lift tube when the stupid doors opened too fast. The whoosh of air made her drop one of the data disks on the floor.

"You realize this will have to be reported to the Central Office?" The tall, slim Assistant Director gave Charity a chilly look, patting the tightly coiled bun of her perfectly arranged ash-blonde hair. "If this sloppiness continues, we may have to transfer you to another office."

"My boss loves my work!" Charity was so angry and so upset that she suddenly felt a terrible craving for a gram of soma.

"And who is your boss?" Edith Beddington inquired, reaching into one of the drawers of her gleaming stainless steel desk.

"Harry Voltaire, head of Sleep Teaching Research!"

"Oh, Harry!" The perfectly put-together Assistant Director instantly put on a complacent smile. "He is a charming young man, Harry Voltaire. I had him last week. Have you had him lately, dear?"

"I've only had him once," Charity muttered, eyes on the floor. "That was more than three months ago. I don't know when I'm going to have him again." Her cheeks felt burning hot, and without thinking she slumped into a chair in front of the Assistant Director's desk.

"It's horribly anti-social of you to harbor such built-up desires," the Assistant Director said. She offered Charity a couple of bright pink pills. "Remember, dear, a gram . . ."

"Is better than a damn." Charity took her pills at once, feeling that the older woman wasn't such a bad sort after all. "The trouble is, Harry has all the girls he wants, whenever he wants. I'm just one more face in the crowd!"

"Well then, the thing to do is find a way to make your face stick out."

"What do you mean? All the Betas in my birth group look exactly alike!"

"Precisely," Edith Beddington said. "That's why we have to make you stick out in some other way. It's all about mystery and experience, my dear. That's what draws Alpha males."

"Oh, my." Charity had never heard such words used before. How could there be any mystery in having a boy you liked? And if everyone had the same experiences, how could hers be more interesting?

"I may be able to help you," the Assistant Director said grandly. "But for right now, back you go to Mr. Harry Voltaire. And not a word to him about any of this, do you hear?"

"Yes, madam director." Charity smiled automatically, already liking the Assistant Director much better after swallowing the two grams of soma.


	2. Secret Research

_Chapter Two: Secret Research_

"How about dinner tonight, Charity?" Just as he was putting his magnetic discs back in place, Harry Voltaire managed to brush the back of his hand across his secretary's backside.

"Oh!" Charity wanted to surrender to her Alpha-plus boss. She'd been dying to have him again for weeks on end. Even his most casual touch made her knees turn to jelly. But just as her well-programmed mind was prompting her to give the acceptable sleep-conditioned response (" _of course, Harry. Hug me till you drug me, honey!_ ") Charity's subconscious flashed a vivid image of disapproval and scorn on the intelligent but rather chilly features of Dr. Edith Beddington.

"Sorry, Harry, but I can't," chirped the little Beta Minus, her freckled cheeks burning hot. "I've been requested by Dr. Beddington for the Darwin Laboratory. It's secret research."

"Secret research?" Harry was surprised and a little resentful. "Why wasn't I asked to sign a release? What does a high-ranking member of the World Scientific Board like Dr. Edith Beddington want with my pretty little Beta secretary?"

"Well, if I told you it wouldn't be a secret, would it?" Charity couldn't prevent a squeal as Harry playfully fondled her left breast, but she immediately slapped his hand away. "Stop that, Harry! You've no right to interfere with my sexual life. Everyone belongs to everyone else, remember?"

"When the individual feels, the community reels." Harry was an Alpha male, but his mind had still been subjected to hundreds of hours of sleep conditioning. He let Charity slip from his grasp and watched her rush off with a blank look on his handsome face. Then he sat down at his massive desk and immediately invited three other buxom Betas to dinner.

"It worked just like you said!" Charity jumped into Dr. Beddington's helicopter with a triumphant smile on her face. "The moment Harry found out I wasn't available for dinner, he got all possessive and old-fashioned. 'What do they want with my pretty little secretary?'" The little redhead boomed, deliberately mimicking Harry's deep-voiced male outrage. "' _My_ secretary!'"

"Splendid, my dear. You've taken your first step towards making Harry sit up and take notice of your individuality." The tall, distinguished, golden-haired female scientist quickly got her helicopter up into the clouds and set a course towards the wilderness belt outside of London.

"Aren't we going to the Pre-Ford Historical Archives?" Charity peered down at the blur of greenery and forest, wishing for a moment that she had accepted Harry's invitation to dinner. It was one thing helping Batty Beddington research the ancient rituals of male-female courtship, but flying off the beaten path like this on a Friday night was not her sleep-conditioned idea of a good time!

"How can you make Harry chase you if you're always within reach?" Dr. Beddington laughed at the look of dismay on the younger woman's freckled face. But her expression softened as she offered Charity a double gram of soma from her neon-green plastic purse. "Here, dearest. Try these. A little something to calm your nerves. Remember, a gram is . . ."

"Better than a damn." Charity gulped the pills at once, and washed them down with a tiny bottle of electrolyte-rich hormone-enhanced water. Batty Beddington was always talking about the benefits of enhanced water. The slender, long-limbed blonde scientist said it was the key to maintaining her youthful vigor and her high-energy lifestyle.

"Are we going to another Research Center?" Charity asked, leaning back in her seat and resting her head against the pneumatic headrest. She didn't feel much of an invigorating effect from the energy-producing enhanced water. But the extra-strength soma from Batty Beddington's pretty little purse was already taking effect. Charity yawned, wondering if she could sneak in a little soma holiday before they landed. And if she did, would Harry turn up in her dreams?

"Tonight we're going to a very ancient archaeological site known as the Black Crags." Dr. Beddington was saying. The lady scientist knowingly nudged a button with her toe, automatically dimming the lights in the helicopter cabin. Then she reached over and flicked another button with her finger, and this one made Charity's cushioned seat sink down lower and lower, until it was almost like a bed. "However, we won't reach the Crags for another hour or two at least, so you may as well rest and take a holiday till then. The ritual won't begin till midnight."

"The ritual?" Charity didn't like the sound of that word. She tried to murmur a complaint, but her eyes slid shut and she sank into a very vivid series of lust-enhancing soma dreams, all of them as real as Feelies and all starring Harry Voltaire.


	3. Boom Ba Boom!

_Chapter Three: Boom Ba Boom!_

Charity couldn't stop giggling the whole time she was being tied down to the stone slab. It wasn't the scratchy feeling of the ropes biting into her plump freckled flesh that made her want to laugh, it was the sight of slim, blonde Dr. Edith Beddington dressed as an ancient druid priestess, complete with a feathered headdress and a pair of elk antlers!

"You should have given her more soma," complained a masked figure holding a torch. All the other priestesses were disguised as various animals and birds, and from Charity's perspective on the slab they all looked quite ridiculous.

"It would take a lot more than soma to make me think you're really a primitive nature goddess," Charity snarked, giggling even more as Batty Beddington began dabbing her face with paint. "What sort of animal am I going to be?" she asked, grinning cheekily up at her guide and mentor.

"You're not any sort of animal, my pet," Dr. Beddington teased, lightly flicking the redhead's snub nose with the tip of her finger. "You're the offering to the Horned One. He is the male force in nature that makes rain, and fertilizes the earth. He must have a sacrifice or the crops won't grow."

"A sacrifice?" Charity didn't feel quite so much like laughing now. She wished she hadn't taken so much soma and fallen asleep in Dr. Beddington's helicopter. One minute she was laughing her head off and chatting away about her humdrum job and her handsome boss and the next she was being tied down on the sacrificial slab!

"Male god, wild and savage! Male god, hard and hungry! Take the flesh of the earth, male god, and make it fertile!"

Tall, blonde sophisticated Dr. Beddington raised her bare arms to the heavens, and to her horror Charity saw that the sensible research scientist was actually holding a bone knife in her hands!

"NO!" Charity screamed and squirmed, but the knife thrust into her defenseless flesh never came. Instead a couple of heavy-set women in earth-colored robes began pounding on a pair of enormous kettle-sized drums. _Boom, boom, boom ba-boom. Boom, boom, boom ba-boom._

"The Horned One is with us!" Batty Dr. Beddington shrieked, and all at once the other women began to dance. The beat of the drums seemed to sink into all of them at the same instant. It penetrated the earth, sank into the stone slab, and echoed off the black crags and filling every woman present with the same primal urge. _Boom, boom, boom ba-boom. Boom, boom, boom ba-boom._

"Let me up, let me up, please, please let me up!" Charity was squirming and wriggling like a worm on a fish hook, trying desperately to get free. Yet her shrill cries and frenzied movements were only partially caused by fear. There was a growing excitement that seemed to take hold of her with every throbbing beat of the drums. _Boom, boom, boom ba-boom. Boom, boom, boom ba-boom._

"Just feel the goddess inside you," Dr. Beddington whispered, using her jagged knife to cut the redhead free from the slab. "Give in to the ancient call of the Horned God."

Charity didn't know anything about any goddess inside of her, but the moment she was free her body began to move in a sinuous manner to the throbbing heartbeat of the drums. _Boom, boom, boom ba-boom. Boom, boom, boom ba-boom!_


	4. A Different Delta

_Chapter Four: A Different Delta_

The drums were throbbing and Charity danced and danced, her body swaying to the sensual beat. The late night shadows made it hard to see what was real and what was not. All at once a phantom seemed to appear before her!

The Horned God was taller than a man, with a stag's antlers growing out of his head. His face was hidden from view, but as he embraced her Charity felt the heat of his skin and the hardness of his chest pressing into her small, firm breasts.

"Yes," the Beta minus whispered, her sleep conditioning battling against the primitive images of her dream. "Oh, yes. Harry. Hug me till you drug me honey. Hug me till you . . ."

"Charity, wake up!" Harry Voltaire shook his shapely young assistant by the shoulder, a scowl on his handsome face. "These sleep teaching records need to be recycled at once."

"Yes, Harry." Charity's flaming cheeks grew bright red as she scrambled to her feet. It was clear that Harry was none too pleased with her for falling asleep during the work day. It was also clear that he was very angry at her refusal to tell him about her secret research with Dr. Edith Beddington.

"Wait just a moment." Harry grabbed her arm as she was heading to the lift, his hypnotic dark blue eyes searching her emerald green ones. "Have anything you'd like to tell me?"

"I'm sorry I fell asleep," the freckle-faced redhead said coldly. "It won't happen again."

Riding down to the basement in the silver-and-chrome, high powered lift, Charity frowned at the way her body had reacted to Harry's firm grip on her flesh. She'd nearly melted! But strangely, her pride had prevented her from giving in to the automatic responses of sleep conditioning. She wanted her rugged, handsome Alpha boss more and more each day. Yet she didn't want to have Harry at all if his body was just a bribe for betraying Dr. Beddington. These feelings of loyalty and pride were hard to understand. They weren't part of her conditioning. They were dangerous, forbidden feelings.

Charity didn't like what was happening to her. She rubbed her eyes, wondering if last night's dancing had simply worn her out or if the strange magic of the Horned God was messing her mind about so she couldn't even think straight.

"Basement level," boomed the Delta girl who ran the lift. Deltas were inferior to Betas, and even to Gammas. They usually just pushed buttons or worked machines that Alphas and Betas didn't have time for. Charity usually couldn't tell one Delta from another. But this friendly, big-boned girl with the wide smile and short brown hair seemed strangely familiar. Charity found herself staring.

"Boom ba-boom," the Delta girl said, with a playful wink, opening the chrome and silver door with the touch of a button.

"Uh . . . thank you." Charity hesitated. "Boom ba-boom!"

There was no question that the Delta running the lift had been one of the girls beating the drums the night before. But since when did Deltas and Betas attend the same rituals and share secret passwords? As she was feeding waste paper into the high-powered incinerator, Charity felt guilty as well as foolish. She should have stared at the girl coldly, and said "I beg your pardon." Better still, she should have kept her big mouth shut!

Yet somehow, the cheerful lift girl had deserved better than that. Charity headed back to the lift area with her empty containers, wondering if she should ask the girl whether she knew Dr. Beddington. Had the batty lady doctor been recruiting Gammas and Deltas and even Epsilons without permission?

Only a few minutes had gone by, but when she pushed the button and the lift door smoothly opened with a whoosh of warm air, a totally different Delta was standing there. This girl was identical to the first one, of course. All Deltas looked like they had been decanted from the very same bottle. Heavy arms, big muscles, very good for lifting. And short brown hair.

But this was a different Delta. And she didn't smile at all.


	5. Rocket Golf

_Chapter Five: Rocket Golf_

"Of course I'm grateful for the day off," Charity panted, hurrying to keep up as long-legged Dr. Beddington walked briskly to her gleaming private helicopter on the roof of the World Pleasure Enhancement building. "I'm just worried, that's all."

"Worried?" the striking older woman asked, opening the door to her sleek silver helicopter and helping Charity clamber inside. "What on earth are you worried about? The sun is out, and it's a lovely day for a game of Rocket Golf!"

"Look, I know this is going to sound rather silly," the little redhead squeaked, fumbling with her seatbelt as the helicopter rose right off the roof. "But yesterday, when I was at work, the oddest thing happened." Charity quickly filled Dr. Edith Beddington in on the strange disappearance of the Delta who had smiled at her.

"That does sound rather odd," her companion acknowledged, with a slight frown. With one hand firmly on the controls, she reached over and snapped Charity's seatbelt right into place. "Let's see if we can't get some answers after our golf game."

"Oh, certainly, I mean, if you like." Secretly Charity was very relieved. Tall, blonde, Alpha Plus Dr. Beddington was so perfect in every way, but sometimes she didn't listen to what other people were telling her. Perhaps she was finally starting to treat short, freckle-faced Beta Minus Charity like an equal!

The two women found their dates already waiting for them at the golf course. Charity was a little breathless, shaking hands with big, hulking Bishop Humphrey Babcock of the Our Ford Church, but Edith Beddington was perfectly at ease with bright young World Controller Jonathan Swift Warren.

"Now just align your shoulders and focus on the ball," the bishop rumbled, letting his big hands rest lightly on Charity's slim hips. "Just make your mind a total blank and drive the stroke through."

"Wow, what an amazing shot!" Charity was very pleased with herself as the ball soared out of sight, even though she knew there were tiny rockets that guided it to the desired target.

"How athletic you are!" The bishop's hearty laugh made Charity feel warm all over as they zoomed by hovercraft to the next hole. Edith and her younger man were waiting for them.

"Very nice shot, Charity," Dr. Beddington called, as Charity sank the putt effortlessly, guided by the bishop's firm hands. "Do you suppose you could show us a little mercy?"

"Never!" Charity giggled as the ball rattled inside the cup, feeling elated by her success and grateful for the bishop's help. She was very aware of the attractive older man's eyes on her backside.

"That's enough of that, dear child." He smacked her bottom lightly. "Our Ford says that pride goes before a fall."

"You know so much!" Charity said admiringly. When the older man took his turn, she saw how powerful his shoulders and back muscles were. He gave a silly sort of wiggle, just to make her laugh. And then he sent his shot zooming far off into the woods!

"You did that on purpose!" Squealing with laughter, Charity scrambled eagerly into the hovercraft, certain that Bishop Babcock would want to retrieve his ball quickly and get back into the game. Instead the two of them ended up getting lost in the woods, and having each other right up against a tree. The bishop was very vigorous, and so impatient that Charity barely had time to take the proper precautions with her Malthusian belt!

"Did you two find what you were looking for?" Dr. Beddington asked archly, as the two of them came strolling out of the woods.

"We got lost," Charity said, gazing down at the soft green grass under her feet. She knew it was natural and healthy to have an attractive man, and she'd certainly enjoyed meeting Humphrey. Still, now that it was all over she couldn't help feeling a little let down and drained. A very tired feeling swept over her like a wave, so that it was almost a relief when Bishop Babcock clapped his big, meaty paw on her shoulder and said in a firm, deep voice that his little charmer had clearly had enough exercise for one day.

"Thank you for the lovely golf game, Your Fordship," Charity said, putting on a bright smile and hiding the feeling of total exhaustion that had just come over her all at once. "I would have beaten you, you know. I'm quite competitive and I never give up. I was just hitting my stride when we got lost in the woods!"

The Bishop beamed, but Dr. Beddington wasn't fooled. The tall, slim Alpha female looked Charity over from head to toe, taking in her smudged face, dirty clothes, and slumping shoulders. "Fierce competitor that you are, Charity dear, I think you'd be wise to rest for the remainder of the afternoon. Run along to the multi-scented showers and clean up, that's a good girl. I'll meet up with you later at the ultra-rejuvenating deep-tissue massage machines."

Charity didn't like being sent off like a Gamma-minus courier with a pneumatic tube full of rocket mail. But a few minutes of woodland scents cascading over her from dozens of tiny nozzles in the perfumed shower made her fresh as a daisy. It was a pleasure to stretch out naked on a pneumatic couch and be smoothly carried on a soundless conveyor belt past a dozen different massage machines, each one programmed to stroke and squeeze and pound her sore muscles to just the right state of relaxation. Stronger and more sensitive than human fingers, the knowing, probing machines automatically read her age, weight, level of fatigue and matched their soothing automatic rhythms to her heartbeat. At the end of the long line of machines was a warm, womb-like chamber full of soothing scents and soft music. Charity was resting on a delightfully pneumatic couch when Dr. Beddington joined her there at the end of the afternoon.

"Well, I found out what has been happening to your disappearing Deltas," the older woman announced, walking into the resting chamber and slapping Charity smartly on her bare buttocks.

"Huh? What about the Deltas?" Charity had been sound asleep for several hours. She had forgotten all about her conversation with Dr. Beddington earlier in the day, when they were flying to the Rocket-Golf Course in her snug little silver helicopter.

"They're not being kidnaped; there's just been a labor shortage lately in Greenland. Scientific research demands or something. Loads of Alphas and Betas are going too." Dr. Beddington gave a grunt as she sank into the tall, straight-backed arm chair next to Charity's fat, soft resting couch. High level Alphas were entitled to human hands on demand. Instantly a Delta-minus masseuse came over to ease the stiffness from her neck and shoulders.

"Oh." Charity turned over on her couch, watching as the older woman had her brief moment of pleasure. Alphas always seemed so much more adult, more disciplined than Betas. Dr. Beddington didn't lie down for her massage; in fact she barely closed her eyes at all. Yet just a few minutes of rest refreshed her after a workout, while Charity felt she needed hours to recuperate. The tall and rather muscular Delta standing behind the chair was doing such a good job that Charity couldn't resist giving the girl a wink. "Boom ba-boom," she whispered, careful not to disturb Dr. Beddington.

But the girl only frowned, and shook her head.


	6. Big Trouble

_Chapter Six: Big Trouble_

"Harry, have you ever been to Greenland?" Charity Hill's freckled face was full of innocent curiosity as she looked up at her handsome boss. The two of them were wrapping up for the day.

"No, ducky, I haven't. Are you hinting you'd like me to take you?" Tall, dark, handsome Harry smiled down at the perky little Beta who'd been panting over him for weeks. Lately he missed having Charity in the little clothes closet of his research office.

"No, no, it's not that! It's just I played golf with Bishop Babcock the other day, and we got to talking about Greenland and how there's a labor shortage up there!"

"Well, I wouldn't volunteer for a transfer," Harry told her, giving her lightly freckled cheek a playful pat. "You'd end up frozen stiff with icicles hanging from your freckled nose!"

"That's not very funny, Harry. At least the Bishop takes me seriously. We talked for quite a while after our golf game."

"Well, I take you seriously too," Harry protested. "I just think of you as a girl who'd fit in better on a beach somewhere, having your back rubbed with cocoa butter. Someplace like Jamaica or Mexico. Feel like catching a rocket this weekend?"

Charity shook her head. "I really can't, Harry. The Bishop's having me over at his place on Friday night!"

Harry frowned as his perky little assistant scampered away. Funny how he'd never appreciated what fun it was to have Charity, until she stopped wanting to have him.

Charity was feeling quite proud of herself for resisting Harry's charm, but when she met up with Dr. Beddington the older woman was more interested in the way Harry had changed the subject.

"I know for a fact your boss has been to Greenland several times," Dr. Beddington said, guiding her helicopter over London on Friday evening while Charity relaxed in her seat, gazing down at the lights of the city. "I wonder why he wouldn't tell you anything!"

"Well, he did tell me it was freezing cold up there, and boring, with nothing to do and all that ice and snow." Charity made a face. "I just didn't like his answering my questions like I was a child . . . and then acting like I was dying to have him again right away!"

"And are you dying to have him again?" Dr. Beddington asked. The tall, blonde older woman gave Charity a probing look.

"Not right away." Charity squirmed in her snug cushioned seat, pretending to look out the window so that the smart and sophisticated Alpha Plus doctor wouldn't see her blushing. For a long time now Charity had been wondering if Harry and Dr. Beddington both looked down on her because she was only a Beta secretary. What would life be like if she were an Alpha? Charity closed her eyes, imagining herself in some very important job, putting her feet up in a huge office with a fabulous view. She'd have a handsome male secretary, of course. Charity could see herself giving orders, making him do whatever she liked!

"Here we are, dearest." Dr. Beddington was shaking her gently.

"Huh?" Charity sat up at once, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "Where are we?"

"This is the Bishop's country manor, about twenty miles from London. Do try to wake up a bit, Charity. We've arrived."

Since she was still rubbing her eyes as they climbed from the helicopter, Charity didn't take much notice of the splendor of her surroundings. It was too dark to see well anyway, but Dr. Beddington explained that the large, country house had once been a castle with turrets and towers and a real moat!

"In those days, instead of having whoever they liked and forgetting them afterwards, a knight and a lady pledged to love only each other till the end of their days. Isn't that sickening?" Dr. Beddington asked, as she lifted the heavy iron door knocker.

"It's sickening!" Charity echoed the words automatically, but she couldn't help thinking about Harry and feeling sad for a moment. Just then the heavy oak door swung open wide, and she saw the fire crackling in the hearth and got a good whiff of what was cooking for dinner. Charity suddenly realized she was hungry, and her sadness vanished like a puff of smoke.

"Look who's here!" Plump Bishop Babcock filled the doorway. He smiled politely and kissed Dr. Beddington lightly on both cheeks. Then he turned to Charity and opened his arms wide. "Dear child, how lovely to see you again! Ready for a dull dinner with an old duffer?"

"You're not an old duffer!" Charity went up on tiptoes to kiss the big old bishop on both cheeks with a noisy smack. It was almost as though the firelight and the suits of armor had got her feeling like a lively damsel of old. She would have kissed Humphrey on the lips, only there was a smell that made her wrinkle her nose.

"Cigars," Dr. Beddington explained, laughing at the look on Charity's face. "Very old-fashioned, and very bad for you as well."

"Well, of course," Bishop Babcock said, taking Charity's arm and escorting her towards the great hall like a queen. "But perhaps after dinner you and I can try some other old-fashioned things!"

Charity was amazed at how different food tasted cooked over an open fire, instead of being reheated by microwaves. And she also found that having real silver forks and knives to eat with was more exciting than the little throwaway bits of plastic used in London. Of course her sleep-conditioned brain said it was good to waste. To use things and throw them away.

But when Humphrey carved her meat in great hunks and then carefully cut it smaller, it gave her a sort of cherished feeling. And now and then he lifted a piece and she ate it right from his fork. The feeling of being cherished and sort of sheltered from all harm got even stronger. Charity kept laughing at the bishop's funny stories and toasting each thing he said with her wine goblet. Before long the wine had her feeling even more like leaning close to Humphrey each time he told a story or a joke and then laughing her head off while he poured her another goblet of wine.

All during this time, of course, Dr. Edith Beddington was having dinner in the hall as well. But the tall, blonde Alpha Plus doctor wasn't paying much attention to Bishop Babcock's funny stories or to Charity's squeals of laughter. She was only eating salad, not meat, and she had wine instead of water. All through the meal she kept glancing at her high-powered personal message device and frowning, as though the text messages from London were putting her into a very grim and unhappy mood. Finally, she put down her little silver salad fork and stood up.

"I'm sorry, Bishop Babcock, in Ford's name I hate to eat and run. But it seems there's been some sort of compromising leak at my data research site. I'm going to have to return to London at once."

"Return to London?" Charity felt very confused and even a bit frightened. She'd just been drinking a toast to the age of chivalry and romance, and the full goblet was still in her hand. Her other hand was on the table, and Humphrey quickly covered it with his.

"Nothing to be afraid of, my dear." The bishop squeezed Charity's hand in a way that said she was under his personal protection. "Clever Dr. Beddington just has to answer a few questions, isn't that right Edith? She'll be back in no time, I'm sure."

"Yes, of course. But just to be safe, Charity, I think you should stay here in seclusion for a day or two. No-one will look for a criminal suspect at the bishop's personal residence."

"Is that what you are?" Charity's freckled face was very pale.

"That's up to the World Controller." Dr. Beddington gave a casual shrug, looking every inch the tall, blonde Alpha Plus. "Either way, there's no use dragging you into it. You're only a Beta Minus. You don't know anything. And the Bishop can say he was having you as a weekend guest."

"Only if Charity truly wants me to have her," the bishop said, in a voice full of old-fashioned gentleness and sadness. "I'm so old."

"You are not old!" Charity didn't want to stay in the country. She wanted to go back to London and stand by Dr. Beddington's side. But the doctor's cool smile and the sad look on Humphrey's face both made her feel that she didn't know what she wanted after all. Charity felt like a traitor as she kissed Dr. Beddington good-bye, her tears flowing even as the blonde Alpha pinched her cheek.

"There, there, precious pet. Things will be better in the morning. Be a good girl now, and let Humphrey take you up to bed."

"All right." Charity knew that Dr. Beddington was in big trouble. And she understood why Bishop Babcock was so keen on taking her up to bed. But when the old man wrapped his arms around her and held her tight she felt sheltered and protected, just like before. This time even the sour smell of cigars didn't stop her from kissing him almost gratefully, right on the lips.


	7. Woman in Command

_Chapter Seven: Woman in Command_

Having Humphrey Babcock make love to her was not quite as bad as Charity expected. True, the elderly bishop was very heavy, and when he was on top of her the little redhead felt crushed and almost suffocated. But it was all over so quickly, the old man grunting and then going limp and sagging down on top of her in a way that almost scared her. But then he rolled off her sweaty body, and in a moment Charity could hear him snoring away right next to her in bed.

"Out like a light," the Beta minus muttered, feeling a bit soiled and empty inside after the love-making was done. Everyone belongs to everyone else, she automatically remembered. Sleep teaching had conditioned her to make love without guilt and to enjoy every partner equally. Yet now, as she lay awake in bed with the old man snoring beside her, Charity felt that somehow she wanted . . . more.

Without making a sound, the shapely little redhead rose from the bed, the night air cool on her damp skin. She wanted to put on some clothes, but of course her own things were all dirty and ready to be tossed in the trash. Spending is better than mending, her mind repeated automatically. Without quite knowing why, Charity found herself groping into the bishop's closet and pulling out an old woolen dressing gown of the sort people used to wear in bed. The fabric was rough but wonderfully warm and the musty old garment covered her from the throat all the way down to her ankles.

Charity wanted to get away from Bishop Babcock's snoring, so she slipped out of the bedroom and crossed the hall to the old man's private study. The floor was cold under her bare feet and she wanted to light the electric fire. Then all of a sudden she saw a red glow from the garden far below.

Moving to the window, the inquisitive redhead pressed her snub nose against the glass, grateful no-one could see her in the darkened room. From her vantage point high above, she saw the strangest thing. Down in the bishop's garden someone had started a small fire, and around the fire whirled a circle of dancers, young men and women entirely in the nude. Strangely fascinated, Charity watched till her eyes grew heavy.

The next morning, she awoke to the sound of voices. Charity was lying on a little couch by the window. But over at his desk Bishop Babcock was being questioned by two men.

"You'll have to do better than that, Your Fordship. You say you know nothing about Dr. Beddington's present location? And you haven't seen her all weekend?"

"I've been right here, on my country estate, all week long," the elderly bishop sputtered. "I have nothing to hide, nothing at all!"

"You've been out here in the country all by yourself?"

"We've been out here alone all weekend," Charity said, rising from the couch. All three men turned to look at her in shock. Charity had just dropped her dressing gown and was walking naked across the study. "Humphrey, dearest, could I possibly have just a tiny cup of tea?"

"That was a close call," the bishop said, after the two World Security men had gone. The old man was pacing back and forth with a worried look on his face while Charity drank her tea. "Dear girl, do you realize the danger we're in? Edith Beddington is already under arrest, and they say she's to be shipped to Greenland in the icy far north. We could be next!"

"If Dr. Beddington is in trouble, I want to help her," Charity said. She gulped her tea and leaned back in the bishop's chair, letting him get a good look at her perky little breasts. "But Humphrey dearest, you and I aren't in trouble. We were having each other all weekend! You could see those two young men were both a bit jealous. They were completely convinced by our story!"

"Yes, yes, I suppose they were." The elderly bishop looked rather pleased with himself. "Still, it's best if we split up now, at least for a few days. Do you need me to get you a helicopter ride back to London, dear girl?"

Charity shook her head, acting and feeling like a woman in command. "No, I have a better idea. I think we should both catch a rocket to Greenland."


	8. The Center Director

_Chapter Eight: The Center Director_

Once Charity prodded him into action, Bishop Babcock was surprisingly clever about organizing their Greenland trip. Much as she adored the older man, the lively young Beta minus had got the feeling that he was rather stodgy and dull. So it gave her a strange sort of thrill to see Humphrey take charge at the rocket pad, ordering deluxe tickets for two from the pretty Gamma Plus at the desk and giving the Deltas strict instructions on how to handle their heaps of luggage.

"We'd better eat in mid-flight," Humphrey said, once the silver rocket was safely aloft and soaring above the clouds. "There's no telling how busy we'll be once we arrive. Finding Edith could be quite a job, especially if it's just us two!"

"You and I can locate Dr. Beddington, I'm sure of it." Charity was feeling very confident as the in-flight meal was served. Nothing seemed impossible when she was dining with such an important, distinguished man! Throughout the meal, the gentle, kindly old bishop was very thoughtful about carving her steak and filling her wine glass, even sharing his sweet, sticky dessert with her by the spoonful when she devoured her own and practically begged for seconds.

"That was a proper meal," he proclaimed, yawning and sinking deep into the pneumatic cushions of his luxury seat. "What do you say, old girl? Feel like a bit of shut-eye?"

Charity giggled, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "So sleepy!" She was only teasing, yet she soon found that keeping her own eyes open was a bit of a chore. Humphrey had kept her hopping throughout the afternoon, packing plenty of warm clothes for the two of them and running back and forth to lock up his grand old country house till they returned.

When she closed her eyes, Charity could picture the bishop putting her to work, pointing to the closet and swatting her on the backside to get her going. Humphrey was so old, yet it was funny how those playful pats and pinches were really a bit of a thrill. It was such fun playing along, pretending to be a good little girl. And then there were those kisses . . .

Charity was still fast asleep with her head on Humphrey's shoulder when the rocket touched down at the isolated experimental station deep in Greenland's frigid interior.

"Come along, old girl," the bishop said, as the lights came on and a gust of ice-cold wind swirled into the pressurized cabin. "The Center Director is very anxious to meet you!"

"The Center Director?" Charity was still rubbing her eyes as the two of them took a ride on a motorized cart across the brightly lit rocket pad. Even buried in a fur-lined parka she was freezing cold. It was a welcome relief when they entered a large heated rocket hangar.

"So you're the new arrivals from London!" The tall, slim, black-haired woman in the smart blue uniform looked very crisp and organized. She was holding a clipboard and she checked off their names. "Humphrey Babcock, Bishop of London, and Charity Hill, clerical assistant second class?"

"Yes, that's us all right. Could we maybe stop for something hot to drink before we meet the Center Director?" Charity couldn't help feeling annoyed with the smart-looking woman holding the clipboard. She didn't look cold at all, while Charity couldn't stop shivering from head to toe.

"I beg your pardon?" The woman's laser-blue eyes looked right through Charity for a moment. Then she laughed. "Oh, how dreadful! I should have introduced myself first. You see, I'm Dr. Margaret Carlton, the Center Director. I've heard quite a lot about you, Charity, from my dear friend Edith Beddington. You and I have so much to discuss. But first let's get out of the cold, and have something hot to drink."

"Yes, let's do that." Charity didn't like the way Dr. Carlton acted like they were old friends. She glanced at Humphrey, but the elderly bishop was practically drooling as he took in the lady doctor's flawless face, trim figure and very long legs.


End file.
